Maestro, if you will:
National Signing Day is practically upon us, so close you can taste it. And we're headed into the weirdest weekend of the whole recruiting season. The weekend over which Lane Kiffin calls and tells you that you'll end up pumping gas for the rest of your life. The weekend over which duffle bags appear on your doorstep. The weekend over which anything can happen.
It's followed by National Signing Day, during which, again, anything can happen, as we 'Dawg fans well know. Blue chip high school players announce their decisions in a host of ways which showcase their individuality, which make them feel special before they report to the schools of their choosing and are reminded that they're no more special than the other 5 blue chippers vying for playing time at right tackle.
And while we've all seen the hat ceremony, the puppy hoist, and the tee shirt reveal, there are still a variety of other ways in which prospects could still announce their presence on the collegiate scene with authority. For example:
A half hour sit down with Dr. Phil in which he guides the young man toward the choice which will help resolve his fear of failure and raging Cinnabon dependency.
Made for television rock opera. Or hip hopera. Basically either David Bowie or R. Kelly emceeing a Signing Day ceremony is what I'm angling for here.
Lining up Mark Richt, Nick Saban, and Will Muschamp Bachelor-style for a rose ceremony. Just don't let Jesse Palmer emcee it. That would get creepy.
Team color themed outdoor fireworks display. Set to music by Explosions in the Sky. Sort of a Friday Night Lights motif, you know?
Blindfolded dart throw at a board with slots for every D1 school.
NBA Lottery-style raffle. Will it be Ohio State? North Alabama? Who knows? Except Jim Tressel, of course.
Weaving the Signing Day ceremony into an episode of Justified. A sort of shotgun signing ceremony instead of a shotgun wedding.
Add your own requests for the class of 2013 in the comments below. Or, talk about whatever else it is you folks talk about on Friday afternoon while waiting for the whistle to blow. Until later . . .